


Bad Luck

by Madame de flammes (owlaholic68)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Gen, POV Third Person Limited, Swearing, Wonderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/Madame%20de%20flammes
Summary: The Mighty Nein in Wonderland.Fjord rolls Skull in round one of the Wheel. Then he rolls it again, and again, and again…





	1. The Wheel

“Skull.” Fjord stares at the gaudy wheel, then looks up to where he presumes the elves who run this fucking place are watching them. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, it’s sort of a…delayed gratification. Nothing will happen to you now, but sometime in the future, you’ll have a stroke of terribly bad luck.” The male elf’s voice drips with excitement.

Fjord looks over his shoulder at the rest of his friends. Jester forces a smile, her hair drooping and her eyes shadowed in a way that he’s never seen before. Yasha nods and Beau shrugs. He doesn’t have to sacrifice something now, and there’s the remote possibility that whatever bad luck he incurs later won’t be so terrible.

“I’ll take it,” he says, then steps down from the platform.

Caleb’s next, dragging on the large demented wheel then letting go, watching it spin, spin, slow.

Hand, eye, brain…

Swords, backpack…

Body… Clock…

Skull.

“Skull. I’ll take it.”

“Well, well!” The female elf chortles. “This is going to be quite fun!”

* * *

_Bad luck, bad luck, bad luck,_ Fjord’s brain incessantly chimes as he reaches across with his unbroken right arm to grab Caleb’s wrist. Then his mind focuses and with a boom of thunder, both of them teleport away and out from under the immensely heavy piece of machinery that trapped them.

“Fjord! Caleb!” Jester yells as she sprints over and slides to her knees in front of them. “Oh my gosh, are you guys okay-”

“Caleb,” Fjord hisses, rising to his knees with a pained grunt. His left arm hangs limply and his ribs on the same side ache fiercely ; one or two might be broken. “See to Caleb first.”

 _Bad luck._ Caleb’s eyes fluttered at the sound of his name, but otherwise he didn’t move. Still alive judging by the rapid rise and fall of his chest, but in bad shape. Jester concentrates and puts her hands on Caleb’s chest, channeling healing energy into his body. She finishes long before he’s fully healed, but his eyes are clear and he’s breathing normally, if still looking pained. That black smoke that they’d seen before whenever they’d complained is seeping out of his nostrils, but he doesn’t say anything.

He’s in good enough shape to shoot off a firebolt at the last monster in this twisted challenge. While he does that, Jester gives Fjord a quicker and weaker heal. They don’t know how long they’re going to be stuck in here for, and nearly everyone else is injured too, to varying degrees of severity.

After the battle wraps up, Caduceus approaches and helps both of them stand. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, keeping Caleb supported with an arm around his waist. More divine energy flows from Caduceus into Caleb, and some of the color returns to their fragile wizard’s face.

It’s easy to read between the lines ; for all that Caduceus is eerily insightful, he’s also simple to read himself. _I’m sorry. I’m sorry I chose Trust instead of Forsake. I’m sorry I would never consider doing anything other than what I did._

“Bad luck is bad luck,” Fjord replies with a forced smile. _They would have found a way to make that Skull roll hurt us no matter what we did._

“Now, what do you think you’re doing?” The female elf is suddenly there at Caduceus’ shoulder.

“That’s _cheating,_ dear.” The male elf puts an arm around Jester. She tries to pull away but then stands still with a grimace as his grip is apparently too tight. “I know you mortals all have bleeding hearts, but really? You should know better.”

“You see, darlings…” The female elf speaks slowly, delighted condescension lacing her voice. She reaches across Caduceus and puts a finger under Caleb’s chin, tilting it up. “Once you sacrifice something in Wonderland, whether that be objects or memories or skills or _blood,_ you don’t get that back.”

 _Bad luck…_ At her words, Fjord’s vision darkens with pain as he gets hit with some sort of necrotic energy. He grunts and falls to his knees. The fractures in his ribs and arm re-snap with a horrifying crunch. Caleb spasms and screams between his teeth, black smoke pouring from him and wreathing his face. Caduceus barely catches him as his eyes roll back and he collapses. Caleb's eyes crack open a moment later. Across the room, Nott yelps a curse and an empty health potion shatters at her feet.

“No cheating, dears,” the male elf coolly says before both of their torturers turn heel.

“We can bandage them.” Caduceus doesn’t say it like a question, but the elves turn anyways.

“For all the good it’ll do.” Then they disappear.

Fury doesn’t suit Caduceus’ face, but he makes it work, and Fjord shivers at the intense gaze he levels at Jester. “We’ll bandage them.”

_Bad luck, bad luck-_

“O-Okay.” Jester is crying in quiet hiccups and that’s not a good look for her either. Fjord takes a shuddering breath and pats her shoulder with his uninjured arm.

“We’ll get through this,” he promises with a traitorously shaky voice. “We just need to stick together and stay positive.”

In his head, he hears the echo of the Wonderland elves:

_For all the good it’ll do._

* * *

The laughter of these damned elves is starting to grate on Fjord’s nerves.

“Oho!” The female elf, Lydia, titters. “Skull again?” She’s materialized to stand next to him in front of the wheel, one long-nailed finger trailing through the air, less than inch away from Fjord’s left arm.

“After what happened last time, maybe you’d best think twice about this,” Edward remarks, the male elf and one-half of the duo that is currently making the Mighty Nein’s lives a living hell. “But, of course, if you refuse, there is the penalty… So what’ll it be?”

“I’ll take it.” They’ve already had to make some rough sacrifices this round. Fjord turns heel away from these two monsters and takes a step down the set of stairs away from the wheel. As he takes the first step down and raises his other foot, his eyes snag on his left shoe, where the shoelace of his boot has slowly become unraveled – and –

-And Fjord tries to readjust but – _but bad luck –_

He has enough presence of mind not to try to catch himself with his injured arm, still splinted and bandaged, and instead takes some of the impact on his other shoulder. The rest of the fall slams his face into the hard stone floor.

“Oh dear,” Lydia coos as Fjord sputters and tries to wipe away the blood streaming from his broken nose. “You poor thing-”

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” Fjord snarls, wincing as talking pulls on his split lip from the fall. “If you could just-”

In this moment of frustration, Fjord looks up and sees Nott, of all people. She’s half-standing behind Yasha, one clawed hand reaching up to grab the hem of Caleb’s coat. Caleb is currently being cradled in Yasha’s strong arms, eyes glassy and black smoke leaking from the corners of his mouth. (‘ _Blood loss’, Caduceus had worriedly explained as the reason for Caleb’s persistent dizziness and lack of focus. ‘Someone should carry him. He needs the rest.’ He needs healing, Caduceus hadn’t said, because there was no point._ )

 _Bad luck,_ Fjord thinks now, and meets Nott’s eyes. She bites her lip and looks over his shoulder at the two masterminds, then back to Fjord. Eyes steady despite her shaking hand. Quiet desperation. They’re not going to last long like this. The Wonderland elves know it, and they’re feeding off their misery and goading them until they snap.

Well, Fjord’s not going to give them the satisfaction.

“-If you could just let me spin again!” He chirps with false cheer, raising one sleeve to soak up the blood pouring down his chin. There are only two more spins that they need to do in order to move on. As he drags himself to standing, the surprise on Lydia and Edward’s faces gives him the necessary strength to haul on the wheel again.

_Bad luck. Fuck you too._

It lands on Skull and Fjord doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll take it.” His voice quiet beneath the peals of delighted laughter from Edward. Lydia is silently chuckling so hard it doesn’t even look like she’s breathing. Fjord’s stomach drops and his hands shake. He turns away.

A hand grabs his and helps him down the stairs. It’s Beau.

“Beau-” Caduceus protests. Neither him or Caleb have spun this round. This will be Beau’s third spin.

“I’ve got to pick up the tab for you chucklefucks one time,” she quips as she spins the wheel. “Besides-”

The wheel stops and steals the words from Beau’s mouth.

Skull.

Beau swallows hard and looks at the two elves, then back at Fjord. Weighing her options. But Beau has never been one to back down from a challenge, and there’s no way in hell she’s going to take the penalty and make someone else spin.

“Skull? That’s fine with me.”

Edward claps, hesitant and disconcerted by the somewhat frightening smile that Beau gives him. “Well, that’s another great round over and done with. Now, if you don’t mind, my dear sister and I are going to figure out how the fuck you weirdos managed to roll Skull three consecutive times.”

Fjord glares, wishing that his patron had imbued him with the power to disintegrate with the force of a glare alone, because he is mentally tearing Edward and Lydia apart right now, wishing they would just leave them alone and let them leave and stop doing all this-

“Probably just bad luck, darling. This one seems to have it in spades.” Lydia waves them into the next technicolor torture chamber and Fjord leads the group away, though not without making a furious promise:

They will get out of this alive, no matter how much they have to suffer to get to the end.


	2. Healing Game!

Beau gingerly kneels and takes Caleb’s less injured arm. Her other hand steadies both of them on the wall as she pulls Caleb to standing.

“Are we done?” He asks, voice quiet and slurred, accent dragging down each syllable. At least his eyes aren’t muddled now; there’s something about his previous state of shock that had terrified Beau. Caleb is sharp and keen and seeing him in such a condition was something that Beau was not eager to see any of her teammates in.

“Done for this round.” She pauses to steady her own breathing. Her aching body makes her struggle to conceal a wince. Aging ten years in a matter of seconds is not without its consequences. “Let’s go, dude.”

Those damn liches are already out of the room, so Beau doesn’t hesitate to give a hovering Jester a big thumbs up and a strained grin. Jester barely returns the gesture. Beau wants nothing more than to go over and hug her, but right now she needs to concentrate on getting Caleb through the doorway without him collapsing and reopening his wounds.

“Bastards,” she mutters under her breath, indulging for just a moment in the pessimism. “As soon as I find those sons of bitches, I’m going to beat their asses so bad that even undeath would be too good for them.”

Caleb raises his head and frowns. “Beauregard, I would advise against…feeding the energy of this place.”

“I’m going to do whatever I damn well please,” she retorts. Takes a moment as they cross the threshold to glance over at an exhausted Caduceus, a grim Yasha, a trembling Fjord. Adjusts her posture, takes a deep breath, and does something she rarely does: takes time to really evaluate her attitude. Options, consequences, deliberate shifts in mood.

“Fine,” she admits. “I’ll do my best to cheer up. But only out of spite, you hear me? If these losers want me to be miserable, then by Gods I’m going to have the best fucking time of my life in here. I can promise you that, Caleb Widogast.”

Beau hears the best thing she’s heard all day: the sound of Caleb laughing. It’s only a soft chuckle, but it’s a whole of a hell lot better than nothing.

The others turn at the sound. Nott perks up and tugs on the hem of Jester’s dress. Fjord’s shoulders straighten and he wipes away some blood from the corner of his jaw.

“I wonder who’s going to be next to pick,” Fjord wonders aloud as they wait for the Trust or Forsake game to pick its participant.

“Maybe it’ll be you!” Jester exclaims. “Or it’ll be me!”

“If it’s Fjord, we’d better hope he doesn’t totally whiff on pressing a single button like he did at throwing a sandbag at the fair,” Beau dryly comments, throwing a nod and a smile in Fjord’s direction so he knows she’s joking.

Beau’s sense of humor doesn’t normally land, but it does the trick in this macabre environment. Man, they all must be really starved for humor right now, because it looks like even Yasha is getting a huge kick out of it.

“Or maybe it’ll be like the hospital-”

“Ugh, don’t even-” Fjord interrupts Nott’s jab.

“Don’t worry, _Oskar,_ you know she didn’t mean it!” Jester throws a blood-stained hand over her forehead. “I’d let you press _my_ buttons anytime!”

“Heck yea!” Nott high-fives Jester while Fjord facepalms.

Beau can’t even believe that her one dumb joke managed to so drastically break the tension and lighten the mood.

It’s enough to keep them going for a few minutes, even through the tense silent argument as Nott presses _Forsake_ without a second of hesitation. There’s a quiet gasp of protest from Caduceus. Jester balls her hands into fists, wrinkling the fabric of her dress.

The other team picked _Trust._ Those poor bastards are fucked beyond what Beau would prefer to imagine.

Yasha clears her throat. “Let’s keep going.”

There’s nothing else to do.

* * *

“A bonus round?” Yasha frowns, careful not to jostle Caleb at her side, held stable and standing by one unfailing arm. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It’s means you’ll have a chance to gain a bit of a reprieve. You can have a Healing Game, an Escape Game, or a Recovery Game. You’ll only get one, so choose wisely.”

“Healing Game?” Jester echoes. “We could heal each other.” She looks at the others. “How does that sound?”

The Healing Game, of course, comes with a twist: They have to give up health to heal each other. Yasha experimentally taps on the button in front of her labelled “Caleb”, and feels a little warmth drain from her chest. Caleb lifts his head but otherwise doesn’t react.

“There’s a loss when you do it,” she relays. “It doesn’t all go over evenly.”

“Good to know.” Nott crosses her arms and looks at the pedestal. “So we should be strategic about this. Maybe if-”

As she’s talking, Yasha notices Caleb suddenly straighten. Color returns to his dangerously pale face and his eyes snap open, then quickly blink. As Yasha steps back to watch, she has the gory unpleasure of watching Caleb’s numerous broken bones snap back into alignment. But who-

“Caduceus.” Yasha’s voice cuts through the quiet discussion.

Caduceus is pressing the button on his pedestal with all his body weight like it would heal Caleb faster. He’s staring not at the floor or the wall, but somewhere in between.

“Caduceus, stop.”

He doesn’t stop. His breathing is starting to come ragged, his arms shaking.

“Caduceus, _stop!”_ Yasha grabs the back of his armor and yanks him away. He stumbles and nearly collapses to the floor. “It’s enough. We need you too.”

There’s something manic in the firbolg’s eyes. He wipes some blood from the corner of his lip and nods.

“How ya feelin’, Mister Caleb?” His voice is hoarse like he’d been screaming, but he pours eerily false casualness into the question, like he was asking after a stubbed toe.

“I’m doing much better.” Caleb is still visibly shaking and sluggishly bleeding, but he musters up a nod. “Thank you.”

“Me next!” Jester prances up to her pedestal and starts pushing a button.

“Jester-” Fjord reaches out as she passes. He gasps and takes a full deep breath for the first time in what feels like hours. “Be careful, Jess, don’t overdo it.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.” She stays true to her promise, stopping long before Fjord is fully healed.

Yasha crosses her arms. She’s starting to tire of these games. It’s a lose-lose scenario and she itches for a way out.

Nott heals Caleb a little bit, and Beau steps up, presumably to sacrifice way more than she should.

“Hey.” Yasha gently grabs her arm and redirects it away from the pedestal. “Not this time.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Yasha gives a small smile to show she’s not trying to infringe upon Beau’s natural instinct to protect and help. “Let me take this one.”

“Fine.” Beau backs down.

Yasha presses the button for Fjord. She keeps her hand on it, waiting, watching. Fjord stands up straighter. His arm heals. Yasha keeps going, ignoring the growing stabbing ache in her own ribs and head.

Gods damn it, but Yasha _needs_ these people. She needs them to be okay. She needs them to not hurt anymore. She needs them to be happy, and this will make them happy.

She moves her hand to Caleb’s button. She stays on her feet and breathes through the dizziness that encourages her to sway. Keeps her chin up when her legs start shaking. Moves her hand to Jester’s button, then Nott’s, then Beau’s, then Caduceus’ in turn. They’re going to get out of this. They’re going to be alright.

Yasha tears her hand off the button. Every labored breath feels like shard of ice digging into her lungs. She looks up and meets her friends’ gaze.

“Let’s go.” She grins and wonders if her teeth look as sharp as they feel, if that blood running down her chin is real or just in her spinning head. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got around to adding another chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> From this post on tumblr: https://owlaholic68.tumblr.com/post/182427733878/crtaz-crossover-wonderland


End file.
